Wrath and Fury
by KESwriter
Summary: Fury is a serial killer. When the BAU try to take her down, her partner Wrath destroys the BAU. Scattered across the country, they must find each other to take down two intergalactic menaces. My seventh anniversary on FF celebration.
1. Chapter 1

I wasn't planning on writing tonight. It is by the standard of my home town where eighty-five is hot (don't laugh) because it was still snowing in April. I am celebrating my seventh anniversary on Fanfiction dot net with one crazy huge story that will take time to finish. I have been wanting to write this for ages.

Wrath and Fury

Celeste Fury sat in the interrogation room calm and relaxed. She sat up straight with her clear green eyes staring at the wall. The police had dressed her in orange as her bloody clothes were confiscated as evidence.

"She scares me," Rossi said.

Prentiss stared at him. "I don't think I've ever heard you say that about any unsub."

"She was stabbing a man death and dropped the knife on command, Emily," he said. "Killers like her don't usually stop like that. Fury is in full control, even now. For some reason she seems to believe she can get away with this. That scares me."

"Let's talk to her," Prentiss said.

Rossi nodded. They went into the interrogation room. Fury smiled at them.

"We know you've killed at least three more men," Prentiss said. "Tell us where the bodies are and maybe we'll recommend that you spend the rest of your life in jail."

"Lawyer," she said in a sweet tone.

The door to the interrogation room opened and a man in his early forty in a sharp black three-piece suit appeared.

"That'd be me," he said. "I'm John Wrath and you made a big mistake by arresting my client."

"How so?" Rossi asked.

"Killers are going to roam the earth and life as you know it will never be the same again," he said.

"What do you mean?" Prentiss asked.

Wrath pulled off his ring with an emerald setting.

"You'll see," he said and dropped it on the metal table.

The sound was deafening. Rossi and Prentiss ducked down and plugged their ears while Fury and Wrath laughed.

The World went Dark for less than half second and woke up Anew.

"Breakfast time!" Rossi called. "Come on kids! Get it while it's hot!"

"We're not kids anymore dad," Joan said. "And since when do you make pancakes?"

"I felt like trying to spice things up around here," he said. "Don't you get tired of cereal?

"Try not to get any batter on your tie sweetheart," Hellen said. "Don't forget you're meeting with the mayor today."

"I won't dear," he said kissing her lightly on the cheek.

Luke appears with the newspaper. "It is me, or is the world getting more violent?"

Kevin speeds by on his wheelchair and grabs some pancakes.

"You're to young to worry about the world little bro," he said.

"If I don't pay attention now, it will be my problem in the future," he said.

"Your brother has a point Luke," Rossi said as he dished up pancakes. "This Tommy Yates's guy is the stuff of nightmares. You shouldn't be focusing on him when you have homework."

"He's believed to have already killed and mutilated at least one hundred eighteen women dad, how do you not worry about him?"

"Because if I worried about every killer that walked this planet, I'd wouldn't be able to sleep, and I'd miss out on watching you kids grow up," he said. "It's called compartmentalization."

"That is one big SAT word," Joan said.

"It means only worry about what is important," Rossi said. "And what is important is you guys."

…

Tru Davies stared at the grave stone of her best friend, J.J.

"I wish I could have saved you. But it was you or the world, and I was forced to choose the world. I'm sorry Lindsey."

She placed flowers at the grave and walked away. It seemed like the world was getting fuller of people to save every day and she could barely keep up. It could have been her imagination, but she was convinced it wasn't.

…

"Hi, my name is Stephanie," she said in the fake cheerful tone she always used. "May I see your boarding passes?"

"Sure," the father said. "We can't wait to get away from everything and go to Hawaii."

"There was a dead body in our backyard," the young boy traveling with them piped up.

"Another reason this trip couldn't come soon enough," the mother said.

"I see," Garcia said and process their boarding passes. "Have a good trip!"

She sighed as she watched the family leave. If only she had done less drugs and more homework and maybe she'd be able to help with what appeared to be an epidemic level of criminal violence.

…

Prentiss hated her job but loved her coworkers. There was nothing glamourous about working at Pickering industries. Everyone tried to keep the mood light at her job, but it got difficult when a serial killer took Keith. It was as though he was too pretty for this world.

She wondered about what was making the world so sad these days. Then she'd stop, admire a good-looking man, and her problems would go away. For a little while anyway. She didn't have broad tastes and that was fine. Anything to make things seem better as she had no real control over how things worked in the cosmic scheme of things.

…

Lewis' life was fabulous since Ross Geller stopped expressing interest in her. She found herself a Nobel Prize-winning husband and her latest paper was well reviewed. Nothing could make the world seem like a terrible place. There were troublesome trends in the recent increase in violent crime, but that was not her primary concern. She focused on the problems she could solve.

…

"Another body another day, Eric," Horatio Cain said.

"They're coming faster every day Horatio," Alvez said he as dusted for prints off a dropped gun. "I wish we could do more about it."

"We do what we can and that is the best we can do," Cain said.

"If you say so," he said as he saw the gun was wiped clean.


	2. Chapter 2

I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter Two:

Joan wondered why kids were allowed out of their houses if they couldn't pick up after themselves as she restocked the kid's book section for the third time that Saturday afternoon. It was just another dull day.

God hadn't been around to give her tasks lately, which at first was a relief as she wasn't doing anything to shock her friends and family. Now, she was worried. The lack of tasks could mean good or bad things. Joan hoped it wasn't too horrible.

"Joan, the world is crumbling."

She turned to see a six-year-old boy with bright red hair talking to her.

"You're never this direct," she said, assuming she was talking to God. "Is the apocalypse really coming?"

"It's much worse, Joan," he said. "If this evil isn't stopped the world will be consumed with violence."

"How do I help?" she asked.

He pulled out a coin. "A man named Greg May is in jail for disorderly conduct after a drunken brawl with his girlfriend's ex-boyfriend. He'll be bailed out soon by his agent. Give this to him first."

"Agent?" she said as she took it. "What is he? An actor?"

"You'll see," he said. "I can't stay Joan. Evil is winning, help Greg May and the scales might shift back."

"Okay," she said. "I'll do my best."

He walked away before Joan could say anything else.

She decided to call off early. Something in God's child tone was much more urgent than anything she had heard before. Hopefully, Greg May had the answers.

…

Joan knew what a drunk tank looked like. The holding area smelled gross and the men inside always looked shabby. But Greg May was something else.

Greg May wore his hair in long wavy locks that cascaded just below his shoulders. He was wearing a gray skin-tight V-neck under a leather motorcycle jacket with ripped jeans.

"Greg May?" she said.

He walked over like he was strutting across a runway.

"How can I help you, sweet thing?" he said, oozing cockiness.

"A friend asked me to give you this," she said and passed it between the bars.

"This is cute," he said taking it.

Joan watched as he rubbed the coin between his hands. His demeanor changed completely. May's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his skull as he looked himself over. He grabbed his chest as if he suddenly felt cold. Pulling a strand of hair, he flicked it away dismissively. Then he looked at her again.

It was like nothing she had ever seen. His posture had changed as the way he looked at her was softer. Holding up the coin, he moved an inch closer.

"Excuse me," he said politely. "Who gave you this?"

"Would you believe me if I said God in the form of a six-year-old redheaded boy?"

"Would you believe I am actually an FBI agent who for some reason has been living as a model?"

Joan laughed.

"One of us is crazy," she said.

"Hey Joan, what are you doing here?"

Joan turned to see her dad approaching her.

"Oh, the usual," she said casually. "Random acts of kindness."

"Okay," he said slowly. "If you're done, let's go home."

"Wait!" May said to her father. "You don't recognize me, do you?"

"No," he said. "Should I?"

May's shoulder's slumped. "I guess not."

"Come on," her father said wrapping his arm around her. "Let's get out of here."

Joan looked back at Greg May. The cocky model now looked sad and miserable. She hoped she did enough for him to save the world.

…

Joan had put Greg May out of her mind until she saw him hanging around school Monday morning. He had completely changed his appearance though. The jeans and tight shirt were replaced with a light blue dress shirt and black slacks. His hair also been cut so the waves hung around his ears. She barely recognized him.

"I'm not stalking you, I swear," he said anxiously. "Can we just talk for a few minutes before you go to class?"

"Okay," she said slowly. "What do you want to talk about?"

"God," he said. "Does he always appear as a six-year-old redheaded boy?"

"No," she said. "Sometimes he appears as a teen, old person, male, female. Twin girls once."

"Interesting," he said. "Did he say anything else?"

"Oh, just that the world was crumbling in ways worse than the apocalypse and something about violence consuming the earth. Lots end-of-the-world phrases."

"Did he quote scripture?" he asked.

"No," she said with a laugh. "God is more likely to quote the Beatles over the Bible."

She heard rapid footsteps behind her. It was her friend Grace Polk. She looked nervous.

"Joan, I need your help," she said.

"Alright," she said and turned to the man she knew as Greg May. "We're not done though."

"I think we are," he said sounding disappointed.

"No, we aren't," she said stubbornly.

"Bring him along," Grace said impatiently. "Maybe he can help."

"Come on," Joan said.

He sighed and followed them.

"Another one of your pet projects?" Grace asked as they walked.

"A work in progress," Joan said lightly.

"I don't want Luke involved," she said nervously.

"Who said anything about getting him involved?" Joan asked.

"Because he was with me when I discovered this," she said opening the biology storage closet.

It was the biology teacher with her skirt covered in blood. Her throat had been sliced.

"Guys you need to call the police," May said and turned to Joan. "Listen to me, this particular killer is coming after your father. You need to tell him to be on alert."

"What do we tell them?" Grace asked.

"That you were looking for this teacher and found her here," he said as he walked away.

Joan followed him. "Wait," she said. "Why would he target my dad?"

"I don't have time to explain," he said. "Police are going to be swarming here in a few minutes."

"Give me a hint at least," she said.

"Let's just say the serial killer might know your dad without him knowing it."

"Will I see you again?"

"I don't know Joan," he said shaking his head. "I don't know."

Joan watched him hurry away. He looked and sounded so uncertain. She wondered what secrets he might be holding and why God believed he was the key to saving the world.


	3. Chapter 3

I know, this is crazy. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Three:

"Joan, you really think I could be a target of this killer?" Rossi asked as they washed the dinner dishes.

"I know it's hard to explain, but this guy is a monster and his killings are getting closer to home," Joan said.

"Are you a detective now?"

"I just believe this guy might be a threat."

"I'll take that into consideration," he said. "Let me order an extra patrol of the area."

"Thanks, dad," she said.

"Sure thing," he said and put some bubbles on her nose.

She laughed, wiped them off, and went into her room.

Her hand cramped up as she wrote out essays. Eventually, she got tired and prepared for bed. Every once and while, she felt like she was being watched. After saying goodnight to her parents, she went to the garage, pulled out a baseball bat, and crept back into her room. With it wedged between her wall and the bed, she fell into a comfortable sleep.

The feeling of cold, sharp metal against her throat woke her.

"Say a word and you will die," the man said as she opened her eyes.

He pulled her off the bed and stood her up.

Just then the closet door burst open. Greg May appeared with a gun glinting in the moonlight.

"Drop the knife, Tom Yates," he said.

"You're not supposed to be here," Yates said angrily.

Joan felt Yates feeling around his back.

"You don't get to be the hero," he said.

Joan screamed as she heard two guns go off. The knife grazed her throat as the man fell. She felt blood splatter her hair.

Her dad burst in.

"Joan!" he said.

"I'm okay," she said as she began to shake.

She saw Yates had been hit with a head shot. Greg May was hit in the middle of chest. Her dad began to perform CPR on him.

Her brothers then appeared.

"I called the police," Luke said.

"Joan let's get you out of here," Kevin said grabbing his hand.

"I need to ask her a couple questions first," Rossi said as his tone changed. "Alone."

"Okay," he said and wheeled out with Luke beside him.

He continued to work on Greg May by keeping pressure on the wound.

"Do you know this man Joan?" he asked.

"His name is Greg May," she said numbly. "He claimed when I first met him that he worked for the FBI but never explained how. He was the one who warned me about Yates."

"How did you come to know him?"

"A kid asked me to give him a strange coin," she said evasively.

"Just a kid?" he asked as they could hear sirens.

"He claimed to be God and the world might end if I didn't," she said.

Paramedics began to pour in. He stepped away and let them work on the man.

Joan grabbed onto her dad as she watched as they ripped the man's shirt off and apply paddles.

"Oh God, dad," she cried into his arms.

…

Reid looked around the cemetery he was standing in. It didn't look like any he had ever been in.

"Spence."

He looked around and saw J.J. standing a few rows away. Her was done up differently and she was wearing a red tank top and jeans. Reid ran to her. She hugged him tightly.

"Spence, there isn't much time," she said.

"Where are you J.J?" he asked as tears fell.

"I'm dead," she sobbed. "I'm haunting someone to change that."

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

"Find Emily," she said. "She works for Pickering Industries and a coworker has power over the universe."

Reid's chest began to hurt. He stepped out of the hug.

"Spence!" she cried. "You can't stay!"

He fell to his knees.

"J.J!" he cried as he fell back.

…

He opened his eyes and found himself in a hospital room. There was a breathing tube in his nose. To his right, he saw Rossi reading a book.

Rossi looked up at Reid and smiled. It was a familiar smile.

"Hey kid," he said. "How're you feeling?"

"What is my name?" he asked.

"Dr. Spencer Reid," he said. "I am David Rossi."

"When did you figure it out?" he asked.

"The minute, I put my hand on your bullet wound," he said. "You're very lucky as usual, nothing major was hit directly."

"How do you feel?" Reid asked.

"It's hard to describe," he said sitting back. "Everything stopped feeling real. I still cared about my family, but not as much. It was as though I was living another person's life."

"I know the feeling," he said. "I was a model with a flakey girlfriend who was suddenly in no way my type."

Rossi laughed. He laughed hard.

"Are you done?" he asked irritably.

"Sorry," he said. "There are just so many wrong things in this world and seeing you as model, while possible, is also just hysterical."

"We need to find the others," Reid said. "I saw J.J."

"Where is she?"

"Dead and haunting someone while not looking like J.J as we knew her." he said. "She said Emily worked for Pickering Industries in Chicago with a coworker who might be able to help us."

Rossi patted his hand. "You need to rest up, while I explain all of this as best I can to my 'family' before we do anything else."

"So, what is the plan?" Reid asked as he grew tired.

"Gather the team up, restore their memories, and apprehend John Wrath and Celest Fury."

"You make it sound so simple," he said as he fell back into his pillows.

"If only it was," Rossi said with a sigh.


End file.
